My Story
by Simplicity and Time
Summary: This my story. How my life changed. I don't want any judgement. emily...


I think that in a story there is a lesson. I learned a lesson. Lesson learned: Nothing is as it seems.

I never thought it would fall for him. He wasn't the type of guy that would look for a girl like me, but he did.

I remember that day, when he came up to me. It was like he'd figured me out. It scared me to death. He knew my secret. He knew almost everything about me. And yet he'd never said a word to me.

I found out that he studied me. Every single move I made. He made notes of how I looked when I was upset or when I was sad (which was most of the time). He knew when I wasn't having the best of days. I was happy for that. He saved me.

"Emily?" Jason said. I turned around. There you were. Standing in all your gorgeousness. I stopped in my tracks. I was careful to pull my sleeves over my arms to hide the scars.

"Yea," I said. When you were close enough I started walking again. I felt numb. I didn't know what to say, but you went on.

"Can I talk to you?" he said.

"Shoot." He stared in my eyes for a moment. Then he looked away. I stared at the side walk. I tried to not spill all my dark secrets that bubbled inside of me. I wanted to tell you everything even though you were practically a stranger to me.

"I know what you do," he said. I stared at him with wide eyes, but this time he didn't look at me. He looked at the trees that swayed above.

"What do you mean," I said softly. We stopped by an old oak tree. There was a nook and we slipped inside.

"You know what I mean," Jason said. I stared at the marks on my palms. Two days ago I was almost suicidal. I didn't have enough room on my wrists and forearms...so I moved to my palms.

"No, I don't." My heart thrummed faster and faster. Jason looked me straight in the eyes.

"How 'bout I show you." He reached out. I closed my eyes. I was afraid that he was going to grab my arms, but he didn't.

I opened my eyes to see his own bare arms. I stared at the faint scars on his lightly tanned skin. I shook my head. I didn't understand.

"You..." I let my sentence trail. I watched a smile appear on his lips. He was looking at them, too.

"Never guessed, huh?" he chuckled. My lip trembled. I shook my head.

"Why?" I choked. I stared at me with dark blue eyes. I could see the joy that filled them, but I could see the all too familiar pain behind that joy.

"Why do you do it?" he asked, glancing at my face. I stared at my covered arms. Slowly, I pulled back my sleeves. I stared at the fresh scars. My eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know," I said.

"Yes, you do." He stared at me. He wouldn't let me look away. Not until I told him the truth. Why I did it. Why I cut.

"I don't know," I said again. There were too many reasons for my cutting, too many to count and too many to deal with.

"Don't get all worked up," Jason said softly. I hadn't noticed until now that tears were streaming down my face. I hiccupped. "Emily, calm down."

"How can you tell me to calm down?" I said. "I can't calm down. You want to know? I'll tell you."

"Emily."

"Shut up," I snapped. He was surprised at the torrent of emotions that were pouring out of me.

"At least listen to what I have to say," Jason said," Let me tell you my story first." I wiped the tears from my face. I listened in silence. Every once in a while a hiccup would disturb the silence.

"Fine." Jason looked at my face before speaking. Then he looked at the sky.

"I used to cut," he started," I did it for various reasons, but the main reason was that my own dad beat me." He glanced at my face to see my reaction. In the reflection of his eyes I could see my shocked look on my face. He laughed. I didn't think that it was funny at all.

"I started cutting in the seventh grade. Do the math. 7Th - 11th. Four years. It wasn't as bad as you think. Well, not until last year. I almost killed myself. It scared me. I didn't like it. So I started to fight back. My teachers noticed that I would come to class with bruises and stuff on my face.

"That's when people started to intervened. The police came and almost took me away....I didn't let them. I was strong enough, but they put my dad in rehab. He was doing drugs. I didn't understand it.

"Now… I don't do it anymore. The last time that I cut was like seven months ago." I waited for him to go on, but he didn't.

"I'm sorry," I said. I sounded stupid saying that, but it was the only that I could say. He glanced at my face.

"I'm fine, but you're not. You have too much going on. You're depressed and you're hurting. You're lost. You don't have anyone to hold on to. Nothing is holding you back from ending everything, and yet you stop when you get close…May I ask why?"

I didn't like the words that came out of his mouth, thought they were very true. It was like he knew everything about me. Why I felt the way that I did, and the way that I felt when I wanted to die. It wasn't fair. I knew almost nothing about him. All I knew was that he used to cut.

On the other hand, it was like he was trying to help me. Like he wanted to save me from my own pain and suffering, but I don't think that it was humanly possible.

"I don't…it's complicated," I said.

"I think that we have that concept down, Emily," Jason said. I could hear the frustration in his voice.

"What's keeping me from killing myself?" I asked. The statement sounded harsh when I said it. Just killing your self isn't what people say it is. Suicide is just a motion…then you no longer exist.

"Yea."

"Um, to be honest…you," I said. I let my hair fall around me face so that I wouldn't have to see his reaction, but he gently tucked the stray hair behind me ear.

"Really?" he said. He was actually surprised. I shrugged my shoulders. I could feel my face flush a bright red.

"Yes."

"Why me? I'm not special." I looked at him. I felt enraged.

"What do you mean that you're not that special?" I said fiercely, "You mean the world to me. I never thought that I would ever meet a person like you in my life."

"Em, I-" Jason closed his mouth when he saw the look on my face. He was wrong. He was very important. He was very special. Special to me.

"Don't tell me that you're not special. That's why people kill themselves. That and because they just want attention. I'm only alive because I know that killing myself is wrong, both because of what I believe in, and because I love my family and friends too much. I love you too much." Tears rolled down my face and soaked into my clothes.

"I never knew that I affected you that way..." he said. Jason's voice sounded choked, as if he was trying to hold back his emotions.

"Well, you do." Jason was speechless. Without warning he hugged me. He hugged me tight.

"I wish I knew that before," Jason said, "then maybe we wouldn't be in this situation."

"I'm glad that I am," I said. I hadn't noticed, but it had started to get windy outside. Thunder cracked and lightning illuminated the darkening sky. Within seconds the sky opened.

"You better get home," Jason said.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I said hopefully.

"Definitely." We got out of the nook and started on our separate ways. I would see him tomorrow and the next day after that. Eventually we started dating. My story doesn't end like a fairy tale. One summer Jason and I were heading home after a night at the movies. A drunk driver hit us…

Jason…Jason didn't make it. I did. We were hit straight on. No one understands how I could have survived. I don't either, but I'm still here. That's all what matters now. I held him…when he died. His last breath…I remember that, too. I took his last breath with a kiss.

Now, I live in Hollywood, California. I go through the days, trying to live my life as best as I can. I don't cut. I haven't since that day in the park. I deal with my problems. I vent so that I can make it though the days…when they seem harder than other days.

Jason. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for everything that you've ever done for me. I will love you always.

Emily


End file.
